Spirit of the Season
by LadyKayoss
Summary: [Movieverse] A followup to How Do I Love Thee... in which the tentacles learn about Christmas. Happy holidays, everyone.


Disclaimer: I don't own the Marvel characters involved here. I am merely an instrument of their torture.

Author's Note: This is sort of a follow-up to "How Do I Love Thee…" I wanted to do something fluffy and Christmassy. Warning: it's sappy. Enjoy! Also, in case anyone was wondering, I've put all my other fics on a temporary hiatus due to the holidays. As soon as they're over, I'll get back to work on "Moonlight Becomes You," and anything else that I feel like writing…

_**Spirit of the Season**_

_**Father! Look outside!**_

_**What is it? What happened?**_

_**Why is everything white?**_

Otto had been trying to sleep in. He'd had a rough night; after a heavy rainfall, the temperature in New York had dropped below freezing, turning every wet surface into a sheet of ice. The roads had been clear, of course – but Otto didn't use roads. He'd been in the middle of a daring heist and had been jumping from building to building, trying to hurry to get out of the area before Spider-Man got wind of his presence, when… well… He was very battered and bruised from several bad landings when the tentacles had been unable to get purchase on a slick surface and had slipped.

Thank God Peter and his camera hadn't been around to take photos; pictures of Otto falling on his ass would probably fetch a handsome price at the _Daily Bugle, _especially after the humiliation he'd put Jameson through during the 'Most Desirable Man' fiasco.

He'd intended to stay curled in his bed, under a pile of ratty blankets, and sleeping until his bruises faded, but the tentacles had other ideas, it seemed. One of them was peering out the window and had made a startling discovery: it had snowed overnight.

_**Is it bad, Father?**_

_**It isn't our fault, is it?**_

They'd developed a healthy paranoia of the results of scientific experimentation. Twice his fusion device had failed. Then there was the explosion with the volatile chemicals that burned down the last warehouse they'd used as a lair. Then there'd been that incident with that Max Dillon guy who'd come to check out why there was power going to another abandoned warehouse… It was bad luck he'd been poking around Otto's equipment during a lightning storm. Ever since, the tentacles assumed anything strange and different was their fault.

_It's called 'snow,' _he told them. _It's a form of precipitation, like rain. Except that it's frozen. And it's _cold, he added with a shudder. He tried to burrow back under his blankets, but the tentacles' excitement made that impossible.

**_Snow? That is snow? We've never seen snow. Can we go outside? _**The tentacles acted so much like teenage girls most of the time that Otto tended to forget they had a very child-like curiosity when it came to new and different things. Otto didn't want to go out in the snow, but if he didn't, they'd keep bothering him until he relented. It was difficult to refuse something that could nag at you inside your mind. So he relented, crawling out of bed and hurriedly dressing. _I'd give anything to be able to wear a sweater again, _he thought glumly as he pulled on his heavy leather coat. He was seriously going to have to come up with a way to wear warmer clothing…

The warehouse he was currently using was another one on the East River: not a pier, but close to the river itself. The fact that the police hadn't noticed the theme in Otto's hideouts didn't give him much faith in the New York law enforcement. No wonder they needed a guy in tights to save them. This far out of the city, there was no foot or motor traffic – the snow was an unbroken white blanket that came halfway to Otto's knees. The tentacles dipped their heads into the snow, pushing it around and making exclamations of delight. The upper right tilted its open pincers back, catching snowflakes on its sensors.

**_What does one do with snow? _** the upper right wondered.

_Hide from it, _Otto thought grumpily. _There is no point to snow; it's a natural phenomenon that causes humans to hide in their homes and makes streets dangerous to travel on._

**_Like last night? _**the lower right teased.

Otto refused to dignify that with a response. His left leg was still stiff where he'd fallen on it, and he was discovering the 'joys' of limping through deep snow. The tentacles were too busy playing to offer to carry him above the level of the snow.

Worse, they'd just discovered they could ball up and throw snow, and they celebrated this by dropping a baseball-sized snowball on their host's head.

**_I begin to see why humans fear this snow, _**the upper left said. **_Do they all make such wonderful squealing noises when it is thrown at them?_**

_I don't squeal!_

**_If all humans hide from it, then this would be a good time for our next heist, wouldn't it? _**Naturally, it was the upper right that saw the advantage to snow. **_There will be fewer humans out and about, right? It might be the best time to get that piece we want in the science museum. _**

Otto considered this. The upper right was correct; the middle of a blizzard would be a good time for a robbery. And, while they were at it, maybe he could hit a clothing store so he could pick up some better boots – he'd just discovered the hole his current pair had – and maybe find a sweater that he could somehow fit into.

**_Shopping? _**The tentacles picked up on the thought with shocking swiftness. **_We're going clothes shopping? _**It wasn't technically shopping, of course, since Otto never really paid for anything anymore, but it did involve going in to a store and looking things over and picking things out and trying things on… It was enough to make the tentacles forget about the wonders of snow for the moment and start offering suggestions on what he should get.

_Look, we'll discuss this tonight. For now… uh… _He didn't want to listen to them discuss boxers vs. briefs again, so before the conversation could go that way, he decided to introduce them to the art of making snowmen. Or, rather, snow-tentacles. At least it kept them busy until nightfall.

XXX

As night fell, Otto made his way into the city (this time being more wary of icy patches.) He'd settled on a department store as the ideal place to snatch clothing; he'd bought stuff there before his accident, so he knew they at least carried his size. There was nothing more embarrassing than going to steal clothing, only to find that everything was too small.

But as he neared, he began to realize he'd made a serious miscalculation. Otto had paid almost no attention to the passing of time since his accident; he wouldn't have known it was winter without the snow to remind him. As the tentacles set him down in an alley a few blocks away from his destination, however, he thought he should have planned this out more carefully.

_What day is it? _Otto asked. He didn't know, but the tentacles were as good as any computer at keeping an accurate date.

**_It is 7:23PM on December 23rd, _**the tentacles answered instantly.

_December 23rd… _He hadn't realized it was this close to Christmas. Usually it snowed much earlier in the month, but the weather hadn't been cold enough, and he hadn't realized the holiday was upon them. Traveling via rooftop, he hadn't even seen the Christmas decorations. Now that he was on street level, however…

There were people _everywhere, _trying to finish their shopping before Christmas was upon them. The few straggly trees that made New York their home suffered the indignity of being strewn with lights, and every lamppost had a plastic candy cane or stocking or some other Christmas symbol hanging from it. Every shop was blaring a different Christmas carol, creating a discordant cacophony that made Otto want to jam the tentacles up his ears.

**_What is happening? Has the city gone mad? _**The tentacles had concealed themselves under his coat, but he could feel their barely-restrained eagerness. They wanted to see everything; what little they got through Otto's eyes merely whet their appetite for more.

_This was a bad idea; we need to leave - _he tried to tell them, but they weren't listening.

_**The lights are so pretty!**_

**_There are_ green _lights! Green!_**

_**Why are the humans doing this?**_

Otto sighed. _Get your pincers back under my coat and I'll tell you, _he relented. The tentacles, who had all been peeking under his hem, quickly vanished back under the coat. _It's called Christmas. It's a holiday where humans indulge in extravagant gifts, gorge on chocolates, and massacre innocent pine trees. It's celebrated on December 25th, and usually the days leading up to it are filled with frantic shoppers who'd beat little old ladies to get the last hot toy. It can bring out the worst in a human._

His bitterness surprised even himself. He'd remembered enjoying Christmas once; snatches of memory, of him and Rosie drinking hot cocoa by the fireplace, of cooking a turkey without Rosie's help and setting the kitchen on fire, of sharing gifts, holding hands, decorating the tree together… Otto closed his eyes and willed the flow of memories to stop. He didn't need this. He'd never have a Christmas like those again.

**_Father? _**Sensing his thoughts, the tentacles shifted closer to him. The upper right wrapped around his torso, and he shivered as the cold metal brushed his bare skin.

_Christmas is a time for love, for family. For someone who has lost all that, it's hell. _The tentacles didn't know what to say to this. They just shifted closer to him, trying to show that _they _were still there. They weren't going to leave him.

After several moments, the upper right ventured, **_Shall we go back to the warehouse?_**

_No, _Otto said reluctantly. _We're here, so we might as well pick up clothing, anyway, so I don't freeze to death. I don't feel up to anything else, though._

Otto limped to the department store, hesitating before he entered. He watched the happy families entering and exiting, laughing and talking and enjoying the holidays. How he envied them…

_**Father?**_

He and Rosie had shopped here. He remembered coming in about a week before Christmas, and she'd tried to convince him to buy a red knit sweater with a holly leaf pattern…

_**Father! It's stuck to me!**_

Otto blinked. _Wah?_

_**The little fuzzy thing! It's stuck to me!**_

Otto glanced down. The lower left tentacle had disobeyed his orders and peered out, and encountered a small dog on a leash. The dog, showing the lack of intelligence that plagued all its kind, had licked the cold metal pincer – and its tongue had stuck to it.

_This could only happen to me…_ How the hell was he going to remove the dog without hurting it, or alerting the girl holding its leash?

_**Get it off! **_

Otto groaned, leaning down to see if there was a way he could fix this. The dog started to growl as best as it could with its mouth full of tentacle, and the girl took notice and glanced down.

"Wha?" she asked, baffled.

"Excuse me; your dog seems to be stuck to my tentacle. I don't suppose you have any idea how to fix this, do you?" he gave her his most charming grin, and she blushed. "Is that hot cocoa you're holding?" he asked suddenly. She nodded. "Good." He grabbed it out of her hand and dumped it over the dog's tongue. This earned a yelp from the dog and a shriek from the tentacle, but it warmed the metal enough for the dog to free itself. "Thank you," he said, handing her the empty cup.

The girl just stared at him, then shrugged and walked away, dragging her dog along with her. Either she didn't know who he was, or she didn't care. She had blushed when he'd smiled at her; maybe she'd been one of those women who'd chased him during the 'Most Desirable Man' incident.

Taking a deep breath, he went inside. Immediately, he regretted his choice when he suffered a sensory overload. Everywhere he looked, their were lights, ornaments, fake trees, plastic Santas, Christmas music loud enough to shake the floor, the babble of hundreds of shoppers… It was too much Christmas for any sane man to take, and Otto could only stand and stare for several moments. _It gets worse every year! _They even had a display for pet Christmas décor; little Santa hats and ribbons and reindeer antlers you could strap to the poor creature's head, thus humiliating the poor thing.

The crowd of shoppers was so thick that Otto knew he wasn't going to be able to do this quickly. At least his size gave him an advantage, he was able to push shoppers out of his way – including little old ladies, much to his chagrin – and he was able to grab two thick comforters, several shirts that looked as they could survive having holes ripped in their backs, and a new pair of boots. All with the tentacles' approval, of course; if he took something they didn't approve of, he'd never hear the end of it.

It made for an awkward load, and he couldn't wait until he could free the tentacles to help carry it. And he almost made it out the door without any trouble, until one of the harried store clerks saw him and hurried to stand between Otto and the door.

"I can't let you leave without paying for those, sir," the man said firmly.

"Really?" Otto said mildly. "Try to stop me." At his command, the tentacles pushed free of his coat, arcing into striking position. Otto waited for the man to react with fear, but instead, the man only stared blankly for a moment, and then… he _laughed._

Baffled, Otto glanced sideways… and nearly dropped the clothes in shock. When he hadn't been looking, the tentacles had helped themselves to the Christmas pet supplies. The upper right tentacle wore a bright red ribbon; its twin wore one in green (surprise, surprise.) The ribbons weren't so bad; it was what the lower tentacles were wearing that had the man in stitches. The lower right wore a Santa hat. And the lower left had reindeer antlers.

Otto buried his face in one hand. Had the Green Goblin's glider ever given him this much trouble? The man who'd tried to stop them was now doubled over with laughter, and he sounded like he was having trouble breathing. _Well, at least he won't be able to stop us. _Sighing, Otto walked out the store's main door unimpeded.

XXX

Otto had fallen asleep, warm for the first time in weeks under the two heavy comforters. The tentacles, however, couldn't shut themselves down as they normally did at night. Instead, they watched their Father sleep, and thought about what had happened that day. Or at least, three of them watched Otto; the upper left was playing with a silver bell on a green ribbon it had snatched from a decoration.

**_This 'Christmas' thing means a lot to humans, _**the upper right said after a moment.

The upper left stopped playing with the bell long enough to turn towards its twin. **_Why wouldn't it? They get to play with fun things. Fun _green _things. Fun, green, noisy things! _**It shook the bell enthusiastically. The upper right grabbed the bell and tossed it across the room.

_**Will you stop that?! You'll wake Father! And pay attention!**_

The upper left dipped its pincers shamefully. **_I'll listen._**

**_Good. Like I was saying, Christmas means a lot to humans. And despite what Father said earlier, I think it means a lot to him, too. _**The upper right glanced out the window, staring out at the snow. **_He says he has no family, but we are his family. We love him, don't we?_**

The others immediately agreed. **_I think we should surprise him and do something for him for Christmas, _**the upper right concluded.

**_Like what? _**The lower left sounded eager; it was always ready to do anything for their Father.

**_From what I can see in Father's memories, humans kill trees and decorate houses with their corpses, and give each other gifts they don't need and are often in bad taste. _**The upper right recalled the image of the red-with-holly-leaf sweater Otto had thought about earlier. **_Uck. But humans seem to like it._**

**_How? _**the lower right wondered. **_I think it would cheer Father, but there's not a lot that we can do. We're kind of attached to him, after all. We can't just go out and snatch things without dragging him along._**

If the tentacles could smirk, the upper right would have. **_That's what the internet is for, _**it said, dragging Otto's laptop over to where they all could see it. **_With the help of this credit card I nabbed while we were in that store, we should be able to get what we need._**

**_Yay! We're gonna do some shopping! _**The tentacles eagerly went to work.

XXX

Upon waking, Otto decided to spend the day moping. It was Christmas Eve, and he didn't want to go out to the city and see all the happy shoppers scrambling to finish their shopping, or see families gathering around trees, or caroling, or anything else that reminded him of all that he'd lost. So he spent the day taking a pair of scissors to his new clothing, modifying shirts to fit around the tentacles.

This suited the tentacles just fine. Around noon, packages began to accumulate a little ways away from their warehouse hideout. If Otto noticed the traffic near their lair, he'd spook and find somewhere new to hide. They covered up the noises by making noise of their own, loudly offering fashion advice, smashing the rotted boards that littered the floor, or, in one desperate case when the UPS truck got stock in the snow, sang a round of 'Row, row, row your boat.'

Otto had no clue why his tentacles had gone nuts, but he didn't dwell on it. It kept his mind off Christmas.

As night drew near, Otto fixed himself a simple dinner, eating it slowly. Once, one of the tentacles jerked its pincers towards the window as if it saw something, and he turned to look, but then it assured him that it had just heard a rat. Not that finding out yet another hideout was infested with rats was really reassuring.

Dinner left him feeling sleepy, and before night had fully fallen, Otto was dead to the world, courtesy of the sleeping pill one of the tentacles had slipped in his food the moment he'd been distracted.

**_Okay, he's out. Let's go get the stuff! _**the upper right declared,

Carefully, they walked Otto out of there, to the pile of boxes that had been left over the course of the day. **_It's all here, _**the lower right said, satisfied. **_Even the special package!_**

The upper left grabbed the tree that had been sitting by the boxes, while the upper right grabbed as many boxes as it could. With the lower two doing the walking for Otto, only two could carry, so it took three trips to get everything inside. Fortunately, their host was so heavily sedated that he didn't even stir when they slipped on an ice patch and fell. **_He's gonna feel that one in the morning…_**

Now came the hardest part – getting everything ready. The upper tentacles went to work wrapping presents, since they were the most dexterous, and the lower two decorated the tree; an impossible task when one was attached to a person's spine. They accomplished this by having one hold on to the trunk of the tree and slowly spin it, while the other twined the string of lights around it. After that, ornaments were a snap, and then they set the tree in its stand. Last to go up was the star, which the lower right clutched in its pincers as it turned to the others. **_Look! The power of the sun in the palm of my hand! _**it said gleefully.

The lower left hissed. **_Don't make fun of Father! _**It took the star from its twin and placed it atop the tree.

By then, the presents were wrapped, and they arranged them around the tree, concealing the special package so it would be opened last. Now, all they had to do was wait for their Father to wake up.

XXX

Otto was slow to wake. He felt groggy, and oddly sore. He didn't remember that bruise on his butt; did the damn things multiply? He decided he didn't care. He just wanted to spend the day buried in his bed, face buried in his pillow. He didn't want to get out of bed until Christmas was over.

But that wasn't to be. One of the tentacles nudged him in the side, and it was quickly joined by the other three. Otto grumbled incoherently and tried to bat them away, but they were persistent. Finally, Otto crawled out from under his blankets… and wondered if he were dreaming.

A huge Christmas tree was in the middle of the warehouse, and there were piles of presents. Otto stared at it dumbly for several moments, then finally managed to ask, "What is this?"

**_It's Christmas, Father! Did we do it right?_**

The tree looked magnificent; it was a beautiful specimen, with ornaments placed with an evenness only a machine could manage. And the presents… there were so many of them!

"How… how…"

_**We ordered everything online using a stolen credit card! We weren't going to get so much, but then we saw the credit limit. That Trump guy we took it from has a lot of money!**_

Otto was speechless. They'd done this… for him?

"How did you manage this?" he finally asked. "How did you get all this put up without me knowing?"

**_We drugged you, _**the tentacles said honestly.

"You what?"

_**C'mon! Open your presents!**_

_**Wait! He's got to put the hat on, first!**_

"Hat?"

One of the tentacles produced a Santa hat, larger than the one it wore. It plopped it on Otto's head before he could protest.

**_Now you can open your presents. _**With that, the tentacles began to pass him gifts. At first, Otto opened them automatically as they were handed to him, but as he began to see the thought that was put into them, he started to appreciate what they had done. The gifts ranged from classic Christmas items, like a fruitcake, to scientific equipment that he'd needed but hadn't gotten around to procuring.

**_Are you happy, Father? _**they asked.

"I… thank you for doing this," he said. He wasn't certain how he felt about this.

**_Don't thank us yet; we have one gift left! _**The upper right pulled out the hidden special package, a flat, rectangular gift that it handled with care.

Otto took it and handled it with the same care the tentacles had shown. He carefully opened the wrapping, then gasped when he saw it.

It was a photograph, enlarged and framed. It wasn't just any photo; it was a picture of him and Rosie seated at the table, gazes locked, his hand reaching across to hold hers. "Where did you get this?" he asked in a strangled voice. He'd thought all photos of his Rosie had been lost forever.

**_We e-mailed Peter Parker, _**the tentacles said delicately. **_Your memories showed him taking photographs when he visited, so we asked him to send a picture to a company that blew pictures up and framed them, and sent that company the address. We didn't think he'd actually come through. _**The tentacles sounded amazed by this.

"Christmas brings out the best in everyone," Otto said weakly. He couldn't pull his eyes away from the picture of his Rosie; he'd forgotten how beautiful she was.

_**Did we do good, Father?**_

"Thank you," he said, and this time it was more heartfelt. "You did… very good." He was surprised to hear his voice break. "Thank you so much." _I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to cry… _He couldn't believe that they'd done this for him. They were just machines, but they'd tried to ease his broken heart, tried to make him happy during the worst time of the year. They were more human than most of the people he'd met.

**_There's one last thing, Father. _**There was a cunning tone to their voices. **_This is a Christmas tradition, too, isn't it? _**The upper right held up a sprig of mistletoe.

Otto laughed, something he hadn't done in what felt like ages, and lightly kissed each tentacle on its sensors. After all, they'd done so much for him, what did one little kiss hurt? He could feel their pleasure at the contact, and realized they hadn't quite gotten over their crush on him, though at least they weren't actively pursuing him.

Maybe this wasn't the best Christmas he'd ever had, but the tentacles had made the pain easier to deal with. And that was the best gift of all.

The End


End file.
